


Watch Me Watch You

by theprincessed



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mirror Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 21:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/816141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theprincessed/pseuds/theprincessed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick said to Ne-Yo on his breakfast show the day after 'Radio 1's Teen Awards 2012' gig that he missed him performing his set. This is the story of why (but not really).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Me Watch You

It may surprise but awards shows of any kind could sometimes be a little bit boring. Radio 1’s Teen Awards were slightly different because through the fun and games the honouring of a trio of deserving teenagers was the centrepiece, but the music acts still had their usual routine – rehearsals days previously, soundcheck sometime during show day and a _lot_ of waiting around in between.

Louis’ mood is dependent on how he feels about the hours of _before_. Sometimes he settles in a quiet corner and manages to amuse himself to quell the nerves, other times he forces the hyperactivity until it actually sparks to life within him, messing with his bandmates and causing the typical mischief he’s known for. Thirdly though, he’d simply become antsy. He would pace back and forth and then, when that wasn’t enough, he would often sneak past Paul, Marco and whoever else necessary and go and explore his surroundings.

Halfway through these awards on a dry Sunday afternoon, Louis is itching to burn off excess energy but nobody seems interested in joining him. Zayn has obviously gone to find Perrie to no doubt congratulate her and the Little Mix girls on their debut at the awards, Louis sees Niall hanging around in busy corridors, catching up with Conor Maynard since V Festival, Liam is quiet and stuck close to their team but thankfully he’s smiling and Harry is...

Louis turns on the spot then feels slightly ridiculous because Harry is not behind him or to the left or to the right of him. Louis stands in the doorway of their bare but comfortable dressing room and nope, Harry isn’t there either, so he decides to go for one of his wanders. During X Factor, a ‘wander’ turned into a whole night, but he knows he’s going to be needed on stage later and would never take off before an important moment like that. Besides, he loves the buzz of performing too much to give it up for anything or anyone.

He wanders down some stairs and, not finding anything particularly interesting, goes back up again. He pops into the loo and considers shouting Harry’s name really loudly for a laugh but he sees that it’s already occupied by people, so just checks his hair in the mirror and leaves. Frustrated and nervous about the _headline_ performance, Louis ends up discreetly loitering near the side of the stage. The people in charge don’t question him, as if he’s so famous that he can do what he wants. He certainly doesn’t feel like he is, although it is pretty funny to walk past big security without a massive lanyard around his neck proclaiming who he is. It’s as if his smile alone says I’m Louis from One Direction, hottest boyband in the world right now. He quite literally bumps into Gemma Cairney and they both apologise profusely, full of giddy giggles. He’s about to ask her who she hasn’t interviewed on today’s bill yet when he realises that whilst he can hear a whole lot of screaming, he hasn’t heard Nick Grimshaw’s voice since his walk to the stage. Ne-Yo is on stage, but Louis expected Nick not to move far and to somehow have a huddle of hair stylists and wardrobe and script supervisors preening and tweaking and instructing him for the next televised link of the show. He frowns, but tries to lighten his expression when he can see Gemma looks curious.

“Hey, where’s Nick – uh, I mean, Grimmy?”

Gemma’s mouth quirks at one corner, “Oh I think I saw Harry around here before and he and Nick,” she says, emphasising pointedly, “went off together. Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready to perform?”

“Yeah,” Louis replies, but he’s already distracted and turning to walk back the way he came. “Cheers, Gemma.”

He misses her small salute, a man on a mission because now he has a better idea of where Harry is and if he will please god help take his mind off their imminent boyband duty. It’s no secret that they all still get nervous, thrive on the adrenaline of it a little, but Louis’ got solos in their setlist today and as far as he’s concerned that’s never an opportunity to be messed with. He won’t be reckless (this time), just waste some time with a chat.

The door to Nick’s dressing room is already open wide when Louis stops. He and Harry are sitting facing each other and Harry looks up before Louis’ even said hello, like he has a Louis Sense. Nick’s eyes lift from Harry’s face a moment later but his glance to Louis is neutral.

“‘S’not time already is it?” Harry asks, staring at his watch.

Louis puts his hands in his pockets and leans on the doorjamb, “Nope, just came to find you. Wondered where you got to.”

“Aww, were you missing me?” he coos jokingly with a big grin.

“No.” Louis snorts, “Shouldn’t you be on stage?”

Nick shrugs to the question. “Ne-Yo’s a big star; he can fill the gap if I’m a bit late being back out there.”

_Good to know_ , says Louis’ faintly raised eyebrow behind Harry’s back as he stands up and turns to say goodbye or wish Nick good luck for the rest of the show or whatever sappy thing he can rustle up.

“Are you coming?” he asks when Louis doesn’t move.

“Er, yeah, but I need the loo.” he lies, brushing his fingers over his forehead through habit, “You go ahead. I won’t be long.”

Harry blinks and Louis wonders if he’s worked him out when he smiles easily, cheeks dimpling, “Alright, see you back at ours then.”

Once Harry is gone, Louis checks to see that the corridors are fairly quiet and shuts the door to Nick’s dressing room behind him.

“So.” Nick starts, his elbow on the dressing table and his chin in his hand. “What’re you doing here, Louis?”

“Just – it’s –” he shakes his head, looks a little lost with his eyes downcast. “I’ve got too much energy.”

Nick arches an eyebrow, expecting him to expand, and Louis intends to but suddenly becomes distracted. Here they are - Nick and Louis together in one room instead of on stage in front of thousands in Wembley Arena and probably a few more thousand watching at home. He’d tried to play it cool earlier, sticking to the joke, but now Louis has a feeling it could’ve looked like a surprising amount of sexual tension as well. Nick looks _good_ is the thing. It’s not like velvet is easy to wear either, but his outfit is dark tones and quietly stylish and that’s before Louis’ even considered _him_. Of course he’s tall, but in a suit he’s all clear, willowy lines and his face is angular, but his hair and his eyes soften him considerably. A lock of hair is currently trying to make its escape from the crazily messy quiff and Louis’ hit with the urge to twist it around his finger. He blinks like he’s been punched in the gut. In a way, he guesses he has as arousal rushes from his brain to his dick and he can’t help lick his lips.

Nick’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “What are you up to?”

“What?” he asks, but flushes and coughs as his voice cracks tellingly. “I mean – nothing, I’m up to nothing!”

His eyes track down Louis’ body, noting the way his jeans stretch tight around his thighs. “Something’s up. Still getting spontaneous hard-ons?”

“At least I still can at my age.” he bites back automatically, even though it’s a lie and damn it, his current problem is sat right in front of him and frankly too far away.

“You can keep that embarrassment. I know how much you love it.”

Louis pushes away from the door. “On other people, yeah,”

“Think you can embarrass me?”

“Can I suck your cock?” he blurts out.

Nick laughs – he fucking _giggles_ – not embarrassed in the slightest and uncrosses his legs, the flash of the socks that don’t blend into the rest of his outfit disappearing as he straightens in his seat but stays where he is. A stubborn look of determination crosses over Louis’ face with the thought that Nick’s going to regret laughing as he stalks towards him. He likes suddenly having the advantage of being able to loom and it irks a little that it doesn’t happen often enough, so he can admit that he milks it. He places his hands flat on the arms of the chair Nick is sitting in, even as Nick leans an elbow on the table again and scrunches the back of his hair with his fingers with an entirely too amused held back smile that twitches his lips. The fact that he just does what he wants and doesn’t listen keeps Louis quiet and steady, their eyes locked like antlers, until Nick breaks with a sigh and Louis slides closer with his knee slotted between Nick’s legs.

“I haven’t got all day, Louis,” he pouts, actually _pouts_ with that talkative mouth of his and Louis fights to kiss him because he asked to suck his cock, not his tongue.

“I thought you were in charge today,” he smiles sweetly.

“So did I.” Nick grumbles under his breath, but Louis notes the hitch and the fractional widening of his eyes as he watches Louis slide gracefully to his knees.

It’s true, they haven’t necessarily got time for him to tease but it’s ingrained in him to try and he’s not sure they’d be who they are if they didn't push each other. Settled with his face over Nick’s legs, Louis breathes him in against the line of his zipper and feels the heat roll off him like all those jumpers and peacoats have permanently raised his body temperature. A hot shiver runs through him and his hand trembles against Nick’s ankle as he concedes that he probably has a small part to play in that too. His crotch certainly looks fuller by the second and Louis licks his lips on instinct, his mouth caught between drying up in anticipation and watering from the same. Caught on his knees, something about this makes him slightly anxious and he looks up through his eyelashes, just to check that Nick really isn’t humouring him. Suddenly, the thought of blowing him when he’s – they’re both – in the middle of a televised gig does seem seriously ridiculous and a tad unprofessional and Louis bites that lip, but moves into the touch as Nick’s hand curls from his cheekbone to the back of his neck.

“I can’t go out there like this,” he says softly and presses his hips up once. “Fuck, you drive me mad.”

Louis grins because he knows that Nick isn’t only referring to the sex. “Still not letting you join us, Nick.”

He dips his head more and licks above the line of Nick’s trousers to soften the joking response as his fingers pull them open to allow him to tuck his face closer. The hand on Louis tightens in his styled hair and he risks another glance through the gasp he breathes against Nick’s skin to see him with his arm flat on the table this time and his head already tipped back, throat exposed. Louis’ fingers twitch over his thigh with the need to mark such pale flesh, own it, control it, so he makes use of them and eases Nick’s trousers down and his cock out. He would’ve quite happily sucked him off via his open zip, but he is conscious of not fucking this up for either of them and okay with making that compromise. Maybe it could be a weekend thing, turning up to wherever Nick’s not expecting him and dropping to his knees in an instant. The idea kicks Louis in the arse and he surges forward, hunched over Nick’s dick, to take the head past his pink lips. Nick’s hips jerk immediately but he calms in a second and Louis pulls off to show his approval with a lick into the slit, tasting salt that makes his mouth water even more.

He’s got a rhythm going between the halfway point of his mouth and his elegant hand wrapped around what he can’t reach when Nick’s fingers start to roam. They leave his head and flutter down, circling the smooth skin of his ears to cause Louis to stop sucking, lest he choke on a laugh.

“Don’t pull,” he scowls in warning.

“I wouldn’t.” Nick hums and Louis hates that he still can’t quite tell when he’s being flippant or not, so he leans in again. “They’re cute, all small and soft, just like the rest of you and – oh _fuck_ , that was a compliment, I swear!”

Louis stays where he is for a second more as Nick moans, his mouth full and stretched the closer he gets to the base of Nick’s cock with his urge to gag rocketing then withdraws to speak. “So was that.” he says, but he’s smiling so it’s alright.

Not ready to take him down yet, he sticks to licking because that’s something he can do without fail. It maybe becoming a bit of an obsession - licking to get his own way in tickle fights, licking various food or his lips when he knows Nick is watching covertly, licking to be weird and the tiniest of kitten licks to show affection because sometimes a kiss seems too intimate. Or boring. Or only reserved for certain persons who shall remain nameless. It proves successful here now, with Nick squirming in the chair and his thumb pressed to Louis’ collarbone over his jumper and shirt, as if he’s pressing down harder through the layers to make sure Louis will feel it. Louis moans encouragingly and pets at Nick’s bare knee, leaning in as his tongue laves spit along the length of him and his fist slides quicker on the upstroke. Nick properly bucks when Louis leaves his hand to do the work and ducks to wet one of his balls. Although he reels away initially, the picture of rapidly unravelling disarray Nick makes is too much for Louis and he has to do it again, sucking the other into his mouth for real and whimpering when he presses his own palm onto the erection that’s sprung up in his jeans. Nick swears and pulls at the shorter hairs at the back of Louis’ neck because he said he wouldn’t pull his ears, nothing about his unbearably soft hair.

Not wishing to lose a moment of watching Nick come apart under his lips, Louis switches to the tried and tested bob up and down and his cheeks hollow obscenely as he sucks with more vigour. He’s keen to push Nick into orgasm at last and tries to race him towards it, bones sharp on his pretty face and his eyelashes batting dark shadows as he rips his jeans open and shoves his free hand inside his boxer-briefs. His mouth struggles to keep up the coordinated pressure on Nick’s cock as pleasure somersaults in his stomach, but the noises he’s helplessly making around his mouthful seem to do it for Nick anyway and Louis slides the hand from Nick’s cock underneath his white shirt to feel his body tense and flex as come quickly slicks across his tongue and he holds the temptation away for Nick to fuck down into his throat. When he feels him sag into the chair, spent, Louis sits back on his haunches and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Nick looks at him hazily unfocused and chuckles when he wriggles awkwardly and uses all his willpower to pull his hand out from his jeans. His fingers are sticky with precome and he stares at the shine a little uselessly, entirely lost because the idea is to not rub it anywhere careless and mess up his outfit (or Caroline and Lydia will not hesitate to maim him), until he’s being hauled up by his thin wrists and flops into Nick’s lap. His swollen lips part in surprise when Nick licks them clean.

“All better,” his smiles, as he bites his pinkie gently and turns to slyly whisper in his ear, “I’ll repay you later.”

Louis can’t muster a verbal response to that, so shifts about before he remembers that Nick still hasn’t righted himself and his soft, spit-slick cock is pressed underneath his clothed arse. He desperately needs to stand up, considering Nick just helped him with another situation, but he also desperately would like to get off too and can’t resist circling his hips in a slow grind down. Nick hisses through his teeth, rough denim too harsh on his sensitive skin, and his palms fly to his arse.

“You need to stop,” he grimaces.

“I know,” Louis breathes, frowning when Nick’s thumb hooks in the waistband of his underwear and drags until he’s nestled in the crease between his buttocks.

It makes Louis want to move his hips again and he hopes that they haven’t already overran with their time together because the sense of injustice is huge. He ignores the fact that he started it as it’s not important – Nick’s hands are or Nick’s mouth and Louis loops his arms around his shoulders, clinging on to his hair during another involuntary roll of arousal.

“Please.” he says and Nick gasps into his shoulder as he knew within two minutes of them...being them that he’s not the type to _ask_ for help.

“Okay, okay, stand up,” he urges and a confused, frustrated sound falls from Louis’ lips, “just do it, will you,”

Shaky with more unreleased energy than when he arrived, Louis stumbles from Nick’s lap and watches dumbly, practically vibrating on the spot, as Nick zips his trousers and smoothes back his hair. He yanks Louis towards him when he’s done and he fidgets as he's kissed deeply, impatient to wank if Nick won’t bloody help him with it.

“Bend over,” he says into his mouth.

Louis might be embarrassed if he wasn’t so eager to feel some relief and for once is obedient and bends over the dressing table with his forearms flat on the surface. He can see what’s happening in the mirror in front of them and shuts his eyes when Nick moves behind him. His hips keep a sensible distance not to ruin his outfit either and it’s torturous when Louis realises that he’s fast becoming used to them being pressed skin to skin or half-undressed in their haste to feel each other close.

“What – ” he coughs, horrified because surely his voice doesn’t sound like _that_ normally and he had tried to be careful with the blowjob, “what’re you going to do?”

Nick knows he has to know and that knowledge alone is powerful enough to simply make him tut. “Never you mind, duck.”

Louis swings an arm back to physically show his displeasure or force Nick to do something but doesn’t get very far as Nick times his move of undressing him to perfection. All he can do is stand there, quivering and vulnerable, as Nick pulls his boxer-briefs and jeans down to mid-thigh and passes a hand over his arse.

“Please,” he begs again, learning that it gets things done quicker, “please, Nick – please, I – ” 

He clucks soothingly, but Louis whimpers prettily as he hears a quick, obscene slurp follow and looks into the mirror to see Nick putting his fingers into his mouth. Louis wets his own lips and his hands curl into claws as he readies himself and then Nick leans cautiously over him, his dry palm coming to hold him gently at his throat and his nose pressed against Louis’ temple so he’s close enough to hear what he has to say.

“You started it,” he chides and nips at his earlobe and, restricted, Louis’ eyelashes bat in weak, futile objection. “I want to fuck you so much, but I can’t. Not yet. Need you nice and wet for me first.”

Louis feels the groan in his chest as a soaked finger rubs at his hole insistently, spreading the wetness, and he can’t help the clench of his muscles. Nick huffs a breath, ruffling his hair, and scrabbles at Louis’ throat until the top button of his shirt snaps open. Louis hunches forward, sucking in air like he’s been deprived of it and wiggling his arse until Nick gives him a placating pat and his finger is a lot less tentative. He’s slowly squeezing in to the first knuckle and Louis’ eyes are screwed shut against the burn when there’s a knock at the door. They both freeze, both of them staring into the mirror in paralysed fear of being caught in such an irrefutable position but the person on the other side – a loud, arrogant runner – simply shouts that Nick needs to get his arse back on stage then leaves.

Stuck in the moment, Nick dares move his finger still inside Louis to break the terrified spell and smudges a chuckle into the shoulder of Louis’ jumper. “It’s not my arse he should be worried about.”

Louis elbows him hard in the stomach and notes with satisfaction for the awful joke that Nick half-steps away immediately, but for his dick it’s a very disappointing turn of events. He can’t even indulgently enjoy Nick helping to tuck him back in to his jeans and slaps his hands away when his grin is too much and he swears that he will come if Nick doesn’t quit fussing. It’s what he’s wanted all along and just one extra brush of the hand he can probably have it, but not like _this_. 

“What am I supposed to do?” he hisses when Nick nonchalantly cleans off his hand with a tissue pulled from the box on the dressing table.

He kisses Louis’ cheek with a _mwah!_ \- he actually makes the sound! - as he tosses the tissue into the bin underneath and although he doesn’t have to look down to where Louis gestures, he does anyway and widens his eyes in exaggeration. 

“Oh my god, that’s a really strong look you’ve got going for you there, you naughty, naughty boy. There’re underage kids in this place y’know, honestly.”

“It’s not my fault!” he cries defensively, but shrinks under Nick’s knowing eyebrow raise and grin combination. “Alright, it is but – but – no! _No_ , it’s yours! You’re just going to leave me?”

“Sorry, love. Duty calls.”

“I call,” Louis mumbles, his lip curling grumpily, “but noooo, you have to run now, bloody wanking typical.”

“You don’t have to be on stage for a while. Stay here for a bit if you like. In fact,” Nick says, drawing out the words as his eyes sparkle with mischief and he leans in for one last chaste kiss, “you _should_ close the door behind me and wank to your heart’s content, because God knows that thing needs it.”

“Ha!” Louis replies flatly, “Very funny. Now go before someone actually opens the door to find you.”

He holds his hands up and does a little twirl on the spot. “How do I look?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Horrendous.”

“Exactly what I was going for, ta very much,” Nick winks and then he really is gone, patting his bum either to check his microphone pack is still attached to his person or to tease Louis to the point of distraction.

Louis refuses to acknowledge which and is even less interested in admitting to anyone, most of all Nick, that he leans on his hand to close the door, drops trou and touches himself until he gets the orgasm he feels he deserves. If he cares more about his outfit and not so much about leaving the door a little sticky, well...who can blame him?

\---

After the gig, the boys are in no hurry to leave despite their team’s anxious bristling need to get them home and focused for the next day’s schedule of promotion. Instead, Niall, Zayn and Perrie can be seen trying to convince each other to go into Ne-Yo’s dressing room to introduce themselves properly, the rest of Little Mix are taking pictures of the tussle, Liam is locked in a thumb war with Marco and Louis has lost Harry again. It’s no problem though.

“Congrats today, by the way,” Greg says next to him, nudging his arm as they stand outside One Direction’s dressing room.

Louis looks up, squinting thoughtfully. “What?”

“For winning!” he laughs, “Three times! Are you getting too big for your boots already, mister?”

“Oh!” Louis bites his lip, willing away his blush successfully. “Sorry, it’s not that, I – we – appreciate it, but it’s still all a bit...bizarre, y’know?”

“I don’t, but I’ll nod my head anyway,”

Louis giggles self-consciously at that and raises his chin to meet Greg’s friendly eyes, but huffs an incredulous breath because more than ever he feels so short. Although having Greg taller than Harry helps a little.

“Why are you so annoyingly giant, Gregory?”

Greg’s lips twitch like he’s remembering something. “I don’t know, big guy, I...ate all my carrots as a kid?”

Louis’ jaw drops in pretend surprise, “So _that’s_ what you’re supposed to do with them!”

“What the hell have you been doing?” he splutters, laughing.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” he grins triumphantly.

Greg goes to reply but his expression changes as his attention is captured elsewhere and he nods a hello over Louis’ head. Louis turns just as Nick appears at his side to discreetly squeeze his elbow, but instead of letting go quickly the pressure on his arm increases until he realises that Nick wants to pull him away.

“Nick.” he mutters carefully.

It seems to snap Nick out of whatever funk he’s in and he beams at Greg who looks unaffected by his sudden suspicious need to stand close to the bandmate of a friend.

“Gregory, my darling,” he chirps and Louis shuts his eyes and wishes to crawl into a hole because _of course_ , “would you mind if I borrowed this troublemaker for a second?”

“Hey!” Louis objects loudly to such slander, but Greg shrugs easily.

“Sure, go ahead, he’s all yours.”

Louis frowns between them as they talk like he’s not there, like he’s a piece of meat to pass around and has a good mind to walk away from both of them and find Harry again, damn it. _Hot piece of arse more like_ a voice sounds in his head and his shudder that it sounds too much like Nick when he’s smugly satisfied must be noticeable because Nick’s gaze flickers over his face in curiosity. He shakes his head and expects Nick to let go of him any moment now, even as he’s being apparently frogmarched somewhere like an actual naughty schoolboy.

“Where’s Harry?” he asks hurriedly for something to say other than what he really wants to.

“Trying to get into Swifty’s knickers, I don’t know and I don’t – _you came on my door, you little shit_!”

Louis’ back smacks into the nearest corridor wall as Nick suddenly uses the leverage he has on his arm and ploughs forward with his whole body hard enough to make Louis forget to comment on his confusingly abrupt change of topic. He looks around with frantic eyes, but everyone has clustered around the dressing rooms to get ready to leave so they’re thankfully in the clear for such a publicly physical display, but Louis’ fate isn’t so cut and dry and whenever that happens he plays innocent.

“What?”

“Don’t give me that, Tomlinson,” he gasps strangely, hands fisted in Louis' shirt, before he falls heavily against him as his shoulders begin to shake from a sudden bout of laughter. “Oh _god_ , you’re such a filthy little fucker.”

He sighs ruefully, dropping the act. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. But it was your suggestion, remember. I’m not totally to blame.”

“As bad as each other, eh?”

His breath stutters to the feel of Nick’s mouth as it trails towards his ear. “ _Uh_ – uh huh.” 

Nick straightens then and tugs him away from the wall to spin them around and shove him through a doorway until Louis’ dizzy and unsure of where he is. He knocks something with his arse and curses inwardly, but breaks off the kiss Nick is adamant to give him to frown as something light flutters down the length of his leg. He looks down at the unspooling loo paper, but doesn’t have time to properly react to being jostled into a toilet stall before Nick is making another grab for him and Louis simply rolls with it and moans a little as he feels along the zip of his hooded top and down the waistband of his skinny jeans.

Nick presses him harder into the wall with his narrow hips. “I wanted to be cool.”

Louis snorts to cover up the gasp at feeling him hard along his thigh. “Pfft when are you ever that? And what the hell are you actually yakking about now?”

“When I saw you with him – ” he says, ignoring answering Louis direct, “ – Greg’s a friend, but – something snapped in my head back there and I needed to take you away. Soz.”

“You’re the only person I know who still says ‘Soz’ and means it, god, you’re a fucking massive idiot,”

Before he can protest, Louis surges forward and kisses him quiet. Needing to get even closer, he jumps up and closes his legs around Nick’s back, their lips tingling from giggles as he staggers from the unexpected attack and quickly sets Louis on the miniscule shelf in the corner. He folds himself into it to avoid falling off and, as Nick is busy getting reacquainted with his neck, is struck by the memory of earlier.

“Well, this is déjà vu.” he blurts out then whines a little when Nick stops what he’s doing to shoot him a curious look. “Had an interview with Matt in here earlier. Talked about porn on the internet, the size of Niall’s cock and puppets. James is a perfectly good name for a puppet, right?”

Nick’s eyebrow rises. “Porn on the internet, hm? What, ‘hot twink fucked doggy style’?”

“Is that in my future?” Louis grins back, James the imaginary puppet gladly forgotten.

Nick matches his smile. “I’ve never said that you’re hot...”

“Your dick has though – many, many times.”

“Slut.” he mumbles, squeezing Louis’ side to take the sting out of it.

“I’m not the one taking Harry on rollercoasters to cop a feel,” he argues then dismisses it before Nick can question where the hell that came from and their stuck talking about Matt and Harry and apparently Nick touching him in a less than platonic manner.

“What if I was? With Harry, I mean.” he wonders out loud though, “Would you be jealous?”

“Like you with me and Greg?”

Nick growls unhappily and a hot thrill courses up Louis’ spine as he recognises he’s pushed a button and gladly accepts the ride of the bruising kiss that follows. The subject is promptly dropped once and for all when Nick moves to Louis’ second shirt collar of the day to flick open the button and reveal some skin with one hand and use the other to search in his pocket. He’s flapping about like a trapped bird when Louis tries to help and keep kissing him at the same time, which proves nigh on impossible as he feels a wave of giggles spill forth. Away from Nick’s distracting mouth, he pulls the hoodie off his shoulder and is going for the left until Nick’s thumb presses gently into his thin top lip. He makes a questioning sound, afraid to do anything more and Nick nuzzles the slope of his nose into Louis’ cheek.

“Want me to blow you again?” he asks weakly.

Nick shakes his head and bucks his hips into the space of Louis’ cautiously spread thighs, “Once was more than enough for now, just – remembering how you looked. Fuck, Lou, your _mouth_ ,”

“That’s why I’m offering.”

He wordlessly shakes his head this time and Louis feels something scratch the stonewashed denim of his leg until Nick shows him his palm. It’s emergency lube and Louis swallows thickly and holds on for dear life as Nick unfolds his legs for him to undo his jeans.

“Right now?” he croaks, eyes wide and so incomprehensibly blue.

Seemingly in a flash, he’s clinging to the edge of the glass shelf with his soft grey shirt hanging open to expose his collarbones and his underwear bunched around his thighs. The lube completely emptied over his fingers, Nick reaches below Louis’ knees and strokes around his hole until he’s trembling with the effort not to close his legs and fall into a boneless heap on the tiles. Nick’s got two fingers crooked inside him with the forced angle when he kisses his jaw and finally speaks, his tone raspy and breathless from the work of opening Louis up so brazenly.

“Come back to mine.”

“What?”

He sighs, a rush of warm air on his neck, as Louis fails to understand through the fog of arousal, and sucks an open-mouthed kiss there to remind him that he can be everywhere. “I don’t want to fuck you in a toilet, Louis.”

“But you will on a bed of rose petals in a room filled with candles and Marvin Gaye instead?” he jokes feebly.

Nick twists his fingers and smiles against Louis’ lips as he bears down in a squirming tangle of limbs. “I don’t see how Marvin could be there; he’s been dead a while, babe.”

“Yeah, before I was born,” he gasps sharply.

Nick pulls his hair. “Shut up, me too. And no, I was just thinking a bed. So?”

Presented like this to him, Louis realises that he’s barely been to Nick’s flat since he’s known him. At first there wasn’t much point because he was more Harry’s friend than his and even when things started to morph into something different, he was always over at theirs and Louis never asked, through smirking best friends and moving in to his own house and somehow ending up fucking in more random places than the normality of Nick’s flat. Apparently with the view that he’s taking too long, Nick tickles his side to get him to come back to himself and he jerks away with a surprised whimper, the fingers inside him nudging dangerously close to making him see stars by accident.

“Okay!” he relents, flushed from fighting Nick’s annoyingly nimble hands. “Okay, let’s go.”

They step out of the toilets moments later looking well put together considering the circumstances and keep their distance as Nick follows Louis back to the group so he can vaguely make his excuses not to get dropped off home. Nobody is particularly bothered as long as he’s not out partying late into the early hours of the next morning, but he withdraws shyly when Harry smirks and puts a hand on his shoulder to bring him in for a whisper.

“I promise not to ask him out for a drink tonight,”

His gaze flicks up as he talks and Louis copies, feeling the tug low in his stomach as Nick distracts himself by striking up a conversation with the others as their car is brought round. He grumbles under his breath that its weird for best friends to know exactly when each other is about to get laid and bats Harry’s hand ineffectually as he squeezes his hip in a half hug to show the reality of his support and to put an end to embarrassing Louis for once.

“Thanks.” he mutters, as Harry grins and leaves them to wait for the paparazzi outside to disperse.

\---

When they finally do, Louis is quiet on the drive over to Nick’s flat and he wants to break out of it but he _can’t_. He tries to tell himself that it’s just like when he first met the boys and they all thought he would be as shy as Zayn forever, but neither he nor Zayn (to his knowledge) was planning on getting fucked by the others in their homes. He forgets to take off his jacket and Nick appears to forget to ask as he wanders into his kitchen, calling with forced cheerfulness over his shoulder for Louis to make himself at home and that he would see to it that they both have some tea.

Louis has to admit that tea sounds like a good idea and will, if nothing else, hopefully thaw the sudden coyness with which they are treating each other. At a loss, he stands in the middle of the modest living area before hurriedly pulling his phone from his pocket and, against his better judgement, texting a quick straw poll for advice. Well, it would be if he was texting more than one person.

_Get naked :D. x_ is Harry’s very unhelpful, entirely predictable reply to being asked what Louis should do now that he’s here.

_Yeah, I’ll just strip off, go into his bedroom and lie face down on the bed, shall I?_

_If he’s into that, sure :D_ \- and Louis mutters “smiley face, Jesus,” with a roll of his eyes before reading the last of it - _oh, wait! YES. Go to his room, definitely. And stop texting me. Big love. x_

Louis makes a face but finds his interest is piqued and trusts Harry not to send him somewhere for a joke or create mental scars for life. It’s not like a bedroom could be anything other than happily comforting, right?

With a quick glance towards the kitchen door, Louis takes off his jacket and tosses onto the sofa with the excuse that he was looking for the bathroom if Nick catches him sneaking around and doesn’t want him poking at his stuff. He finds a cupboard full of towels and sheets and a room with a futon he guesses is hipster for guest bedroom before he opens a third door and finds what he’s looking for...and something he’s not.

It doesn’t take long for him to notice the ornate mirror tucked in one corner, but he still does a double take at the sight of the faded gilt edges and how he can clearly see all of himself in its long line of glass. He crosses the room without taking his eyes away and flicks on the nearest lamp to bathe the room in a low orange glow and is struck with the thought that rose petals and candles and Marvin Gaye can kindly fuck off because this is real beauty. He’s transfixed enough by the vines snaking up the edges and blossoming leafy shoots that he doesn’t hear footsteps and he jumps at the sight of Nick joining him in the reflection of the mirror, standing behind him and holding two mugs of hot tea.

“You found it then.”

Louis blinks away, down at his feet, “Um, yeah. It’s...nice. Er, sorry I wandered in _here_ of all places,”

“No worries,” he chuckles and passes a mug to him so his hand is free to rub warmly onto Louis’ shoulder, “you look hot.”

That startles a laugh out of him and this curious tension uncoils. No sooner has Nick given him tea, it’s being eased out of their way and he shuts his eyes as Nick dips to lick the back of his neck and cause a rippling shiver.

“Now you know how I felt the first time Harry invited me over to yours.”

Louis snorts. “At least he was there, like – ”

“A third wheel?”

“ – A _crutch_.”

“I bet he’d like that, young minxy Harold,”

“Shut _up_ ,” he groans, but it turns into a gasp when Nick places his hands either side of his shirt and _tugs_ half of it open with total disregard for the buttons. “You’re paying for that, you moron.”

“Yay,” he trills quietly in his ear, giggling, as he slides his hand over Louis’ chest and works the rest of the shirt off.

Topless, he tries to turn around when Nick gets rid of his own jumper but he’s too quick and Louis’ breath hitches from the hand that rests lightly on his throat to keep him where he is, exactly where Nick wants him. He can only see one dark eye, Nick is so close, and half his sly smile and he’s distracted by it enough to only belatedly give a pathetic little squirm as Nick wiggles his tight jeans down from his thighs. He leaves the underwear alone for now and Louis looks down at the top of his unruly, wavy locks as he sits on the floor and itches to touch, blinking dumbly when Nick taps his ankle.

“Come on, love, I’m not doing all the work. Step out.”

With the jeans twisted around his ankles, Louis frowns as he relents to holding onto Nick’s bare shoulder for balance but fails to disguise his shudder as he feels a kiss to his calf. Nick doesn’t stop there, kissing his way up his body until his hair is within reach and Louis pulls at it in demand. Nick hooks his fingers in the back of his boxer-briefs in retaliation and Louis’ naked whilst he very much isn’t.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Louis sulks, crossing his arms over his middle.

Nick stands properly again and hums in appreciation as he takes hold of Louis’ arms to pull them away with a grin, “I am. You’re so lovely and I don’t tell you often enough.”

Louis twists suddenly out his front grip and clings on as he pushes them both onto Nick’s spacious, soft bed and quickly gets up on his knees to straddle him. The heat in Nick’s gaze says he doesn’t mind but his body says otherwise as he wastes no time rolling them over and getting Louis under him like he’s wanted to all day. He kisses him chastely and Louis opens his eyes when he feels himself lean up into it.

“I have an idea,”

Knowing it always ends chaotically in some way (or in sex) when the pair of them has _ideas_ , Louis works on getting Nick’s jeans off instead of answering him and whines when a hand flutters along his flank so he has to let go. He figures Nick’s started doing that rather than pin his wrists down just in case Louis’ biceps are an advantage to stopping him.

“Lie on your front for me.”

“No,” Louis sticks out his tongue, but rolls his eyes when Nick waggles his fingers at him in a threat. “ _Fine_ , but can’t you at least take your clothes off too? I feel like you’re gonna skip out on me halfway through.”

“It’s my flat!” he laughs; reaching down to stroke Louis into full hardness.

A few more persuasive kisses later and Louis is lying across the bed with a pillow wedged beneath his hips and the mirror innocently in his eye line every time he dares to peer at it through his lashes. However, the picture he makes is anything but innocent and the grip on his wrists propping his head up tightens as his eyes take in his arse hitched slightly off the sheets and a slice of Nick’s shoulder as he kneels behind him. It’s only when a thumb presses to his hole that he remembers the toilets at the arena and being perched on the smallest sink in the world and how he’d let Nick finger him open like a right greedy slut. He moans at the memory, relaxing, and Nick strokes with a finger this time, but stops short before he can properly slide it in.

“Think we need more,” he muses out loud, appearing at Louis’ shoulder.

Louis assumes he means lube, so he’s entirely wrong-footed as the long line of Nick’s body shimmies back down to level with his arse and familiar, velvety warmth flicks against his hole. Nick mutters a complaint about the drying remnants of the measly packet of lube, but doesn’t stop and Louis’ not about to tell him to. He pushes back towards his face on the next lick, always utterly shameless for it, and feels his hands curl into the sheets as he looks towards the mirror with a view of Nick’s hands clutching his arse and only the droopy tufts of his hair otherwise visible. He feels doubly sensitive, the pleasure tracking along his spine and a tingling his limbs, and wonders whether Nick’s earlier ministrations have anything to do with or he really is that ready to have his cock. 

He softly whimpers when both of Nick’s thumbs spread him wide, pink as the high flush that sweeps his cheekbones and desperate to clench and drag him in for the friction, and moans long and breathy into the safety of the bed as Nick fits his tongue in between, wiggling much deeper before swirling around lightly and sucking kisses everywhere his mouth can reach. Nick bites down near the tender crease of his left buttock when Louis decides that he can’t take anymore and kicks Nick with his raised heel as he tries to twist his torso around to hurry things along.

“Oi! I’m not finished with you yet!” he exclaims and impulsively smacks the peachy swell of Louis’ arse, the sound carrying a surprising echo in the room.

Louis stops with his arm awkwardly hunched over Nick’s shoulder, his back curving and dimpling and his eyes cast towards him as Nick simply blinks until, with a roll of his eyes, Louis yanks his head forward and crushes their mouths in a messy, passionate kiss.

“I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right now I _will_ kill you,” he pants when he lets him go with a nip to his lip.

“You’d better turn side on then.”

Nick takes off the rest of his clothes, cursing skinny jeans for the first time ever, and stumbles towards the lube propped on the dresser against the wall as Louis crawls into position, not fully understanding Nick’s motives until he looks over his shoulder and his eyes catch in the mirror, an angrily red splotch in the shape of teeth marks just peeking out beside the crease of his arse. He runs a couple of fingers over the abused skin and shivers, unable to resist nudging them in to his hole to test how much longer Nick will have to hold back from fucking into him. He hears a raspy groan and looks over to Nick, clutching the lube like a lifeline and too far away, so he urges him closer with his other hand and moans as they touch at the same time he sits on his heels and squeezes with all his might. The bed dips as Nick stumbles on and as he pinches his elbow hard, Louis gasps. He doesn’t have the highest pain threshold, but something about the adrenaline and the lust and the building hysteria of needing to be filled makes him forget that and crave the sensation instead.

“Hit me.”

Nick curls his fingers around Louis’ occupied wrist, trying to take over again. “What? No, that was an accident! I didn’t mean – ”

“ – Hit me!” he groans loudly over Nick’s protest and his fingers slide back and forth, stomach tensing suddenly, “oh fuck, I think I’m gonna – ”

The wind is knocked out of him though when Nick pushes at his shoulders and he falls face first into the bed with a muffled cry. His fingers are forcibly removed to pour the lube straight onto him, cold enough to shock, before Nick’s fingers replace them.

“No, you don’t, you manipulative shit,” he hisses, annoyed, and he presses hard against the mark he left to hear him moan again. “Look at yourself, trying to get your own way with your arse in the air and your mouth non-stop – Jesus, if I could fuck you here and your face at the same time, I fucking would. _I said_ , look at yourself, Louis.”

Side on in the mirror, Louis moves his cheek to the bed to see part of his reflection and whimpers because what Nick wants him to see as well as feel is his fingers as they scissor and his own cock hanging, neglected, between his legs. He squeezes his eyes shut against the thought of watching Nick fuck him and shudders when Nick holds his wrists behind his back with one hand and uses the other to tease him with his slicked up cock.

“Nick, please,” he begs, stripped of his sarcasm.

A hand smoothes down his spine and his wrists are released to get them under him for balance as Nick enters him in one, careful long thrust of his hips. When Louis’ arse is cradled flush against him, he treats him to a stinging slap on each cheek that has Louis mindlessly shifting backwards to fuck himself on his cock.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Tomlinson,” he vows, gasping for breath as Louis clenches around him needily, “fuck, how can you still be so fucking tight, god,”

“I exercise,” he quips breathlessly, managing to giggle before he cuts himself off with another noise of approval. “Can I – can I ride you? Shit – I’ll make it good, I swear – I’m so close already – please – ”

“But I’ve got the best view right here,” Nick chokes on a breath, as Louis jolts forward from more slaps of his hands, “so pink and perfect, just wanna put my tongue all over you,”

Sensing that he needs some convincing to change his own obstinacy, Louis pushes himself up high on his knees so that his back is pressed against Nick’s chest. He can feel the soft prickle of hair and is reminded that it’s one of the things he loves most about men – the contradictions between masculinity and femininity. Pretty hazel eyes and wide smiles with knobbly knees and hidden, gangly strength and he smiles himself when Nick drops a kiss to his bicep and squeezes his hip to let him know that he’s been persuaded enough. 

Nick lays down like he normally would in bed and Louis grins at him mischievously because whenever he’s ridden him before it’s always been face to face. He’s sad that he misses the confused expression, but hears the sob stuck in Nick's throat as he eases down onto his dick again with his body on display in the mirror. It’s hard work on his thighs and his arms tremble with effort, but Nick helps keep him steady when he’s not cursing a blue streak.

“I wish I could see you,” he laments and Louis knows he means in the mirror, but leans forward more anyway to present his arse, because torturing Nick Grimshaw is his favourite thing, _especially_ when it comes to sex. “Oh god, this your best idea ever,”

“I want that in writing, babe,” he laughs shakily, blowing his hair out of his eyes, “think you can manage that?”

“Not right now, no.”

Beginning to ache, Louis slows down for a while and leans back on his arms a little, but it’s not a bad thing. He rolls his hips and watches in the mirror, mesmerised by how Nick barely moves inside him but he still feels it spark all over like a flame licking at his heels. With the less frantic movements of fucking himself on Nick’s cock, Nick’s hands ease off grasping him tight to sweep along Louis’ sweaty legs and up across to pinch hold of his nipples. He tries to bring his hands up for protection and laughs when he nearly loses his balance if it wasn’t for Nick quickly catching underneath his thighs. In thanks, Louis slides an arm beneath his neck as Nick shifts into more of a sitting position, his hips bucking teasingly.

“Hi.” he smiles, before pulling a ridiculous face to match how he feels and must look.

His breath catches though as Nick reaches out with a shake of the head and smoothes his face back to its natural state before he cups his jaw to kiss him. “Ready for more?”

“Of course I am. I’ve got eight years’ worth of stamina on you,”

“But I’ve got eight years more _experience_ ,” he retorts and accepts the kiss that Louis gives him because it’s a valid point he finally can’t argue with. “C’mere.”

Louis lets Nick pull him down onto one side of him and the bed. From this angle, he can seein the mirror their feet and legs tangle together as he re-positions them and encourages Louis’ knee towards his chest to open him back up. When Nick enters him again, he squashes his sigh and digs his fingers into Nick’s hip to get him to move so he doesn’t have to think. Thinking is dangerous sometimes.

Nick seems more than happy to comply and Louis loses himself in the glide of his dick and his body leaning further and further onto him when his eyes snap open on a breathy, “oh!” and his face contorts with renewed want to orgasm.

“There?”

He nods fervently, so Nick drives and drives into him in that exact same spot, radiating warmth and his height covering him until all Louis can see and feel and smell is Nick. He lifts his chin to taste him and complete the set, but his mouth falls slack and his eyes squint as Nick rubs at his cock with a quick pass of the hand. 

“I want you to come before me.” Nick whispers into his temple, tasting sweat, “Remember that time at your flat and you kept on riding me, even though you’d already come? And I said I wanted to come in your mouth, so that’s what happened? Harry banged on the wall because for the first time _you_ were with someone keeping him awake? I want you to come in my bed now, Louis. It’s only fair and, for a bonus, there’s no one around to hear you.”

Louis closes his fingers around Nick’s on his cock, but his concentrated, pinched eyebrows disappear as his face opens gloriously in a giggle and he comes with a surprised gasp. Nick groans into the back of his neck at the unexpectedly quick turnaround, raising goosebumps, as he thrusts his hips faster a couple of times more until he follows. 

Exhausted, they sink into the sheets and Louis fairly certain he’s lying awkwardly on Nick’s arm, but he hasn’t got the strength to move.

“You’re lying on my arm,” Nick mutters a few minutes later, wiggling his fingers.

On his side, Louis stubbornly keeps his eyes shut. “Your dick is still in my arse, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

He winces when Nick withdraws and feels a little guilty about it before a wet kiss is smudged onto his cheek. “Smartarse.”

“You should know,” he quips, wriggling against him.

Nick heads to the bathroom to do the necessary as Louis flops onto his stomach, blinking sleepily when he comes back into the room, a long silhouette of ridiculous hair and tired eyes. His gaze rakes languidly over him until Louis catches on and quickly pulls the sheets up to cover himself to the tune of Nick’s laughter.

“You are such a popstar,” he chuckles, as he slides in next to him and turns them both into his arms, Louis grumbling about being forced to be the little spoon.

“What d’you mean?”

“Handsome,” Nick tightens his arm across his collarbone and kisses his jawline, “very charming, irresistible to millions.”

Louis blinks. “I think I prefer it when you insult me.”

“I don’t insult you!” he exclaims, poking him in the ribs. “I just tell it like it is. If you’re being a twat, you’re being a twat. Will you be honest with me?”

“When you hit 30, your life as you know it will be over,” Louis replies, sleep clogging his voice into a low hum.

“Shut up,” he giggles, “No, will you stay tonight?”

Not expecting that to come out of his mouth, he shifts to see Nick’s expression more clearly. Something like careful hope is there, but Louis still hesitates. “Um. I dunno. Do you want me to?”

“Would I be asking if I didn’t?”

“Are you going to answer everything with a question?”

“Are you?”

He nips at Nick’s forearm with his teeth. “Okay,” he agrees quietly, putting an end to the scarily serious request. “Yes.”

Louis wakes the next morning in a bed he’s still not used to and late for the call at his house. Nick’s flat is deserted and eerily silent until he remembers that it’s a Monday and Nick will already be at work. Leaning up on his elbows with a sigh, Louis notices a button on the alarm clock next to him and suddenly there’s Nick’s voice off the back of a song and he clamps down on his smile, biting his thumbnail. When he tells the nation that Ne-Yo will be dropping by, Louis’ flat on his back again in peals of giggles, his hands covering his face. His phone vibrates and his text message tone rings as the next song starts on the radio and he sluggishly retrieves it from the floor, squinting at the brightness of the screen.

_Soz I didn’t leave a note_ \- it says when he opens it - _but I figured you’d know where I had to be. Ne-Yo’s here and I can’t tell him that I didn’t see his set yesterday as I have the best sex story ever because YOU’RE involved! PS. H has already text me, asking where you are. Late again, duck? X_

_SORRY_ , he types pointedly in response, _too busy touching myself to care._

It’s a blatant lie obviously, but he laughs when there’s barely a pause before a _fuck you_ pings into his hand. He sends off the cheeky, unnecessary reminder of _you already did x_ then scrambles out Nick’s bed to get dressed. 

When Louis eventually catches up with the other boys, not even Harry's smirking whispers in his ear about his late arrival and the mirror in Nick's bedroom can affect him, except to make his grin that little bit brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on 14th October 2012.
> 
> [LiveJournal](http://beautility.livejournal.com/) | [Tumblr](http://www.theprincessed.tumblr.com)


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